


Ain't No Judas

by Lilttlefreak



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - No Zombies, Drug Dealing, F/M, Gang activity, Gun Violence, Illegal Activities, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 21:24:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8029396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilttlefreak/pseuds/Lilttlefreak
Summary: This is a work in progress, it WILL be edited further, and more chapters will eventually follow. Please bear with me.Until I can find a better system, italics will be used to show foreign languages, thoughts, and phone conversations. Feel free to suggest alternatives.
[inspired by, though not based on, Explosions by Crazy Pink Penguin on ff.net]





	Ain't No Judas

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work in progress, it WILL be edited further, and more chapters will eventually follow. Please bear with me.  
> Until I can find a better system, italics will be used to show foreign languages, thoughts, and phone conversations. Feel free to suggest alternatives.
> 
> [inspired by, though not based on, Explosions by Crazy Pink Penguin on ff.net]

"I'm lookin' for Merle Dixon."

The mechanic barely glanced up, jerking his head towards another man. “Ask his brother. Ain’t no one but him who knows where the fuck that asshole is.”  
The woman nodded, heading over to him. His head was stuck inside an engine, slightly grimy brown hair shining under the artificial lights. She cleared her throat, linking her fingers behind her back. She didn’t really like having to be so nice and proper, but the job called for it. He huffed, not looking up. “Don’t care. Leave your car here if ya need repairs, get out if ya don’t. Hoverin’ ain’t gonna make me fix it faster.”  
She couldn’t help but pull small grin. “I’m lookin’ for someone, actually. Your brother?”  
He barely suppressed a groan, straightening. What had that asshole done now? Knocked up another two-cent whore he took home from the bar, probably. He stilled as soon as he laid eyes on the woman before him. Faintly tan skin, bright green eyes, and dark hair in a long braid. Light blue blouse over black jeans and small shoes. Bangin’ tits, too. How in the hell had his dumb-ass cokehead of a brother managed to catch a gal like her? He leaned back against the truck, arms crossed. “Didn’t call back, did he?”  
She smiled. “Somethin’ like that.”

Her voice held the definite local twang, though somewhat softened by the city, but also a hint of something else. He’d probably be able to figure it out if she talked to him long enough, but he didn’t really care. He shrugged. “Visitin’ him ain’t gonna help much. Merle probably doesn’ even remember ya. Memory like swiss cheese. But here-” He scribbled an address down on his notepad, ripping the sheet out and handing it to her. “Prob’ly passed out on the couch.”  
She nodded and pocketed the slip of paper. “Thanks. Good luck with that.”

The brunette raised a hand as a sort of wave, and left through the hangar door. He watched her walk away, chewing on the edge of his thumb. He usually didn’t help his brother’s “conquests”, telling them to fuck off instead, but she was… different. Not special or anything stupid like that, just different. Probably ‘cause she was high-class and all that. Seemed like a good woman. Yeah, he probably just felt bad for her. He shrugged again. Not like it mattered, in the end. To Merle, pussy was pussy, no matter where it came from. He turned back to the tuck, and resumed work.  
She waited until she was out of sight before pulling out her phone. “Oye. Acabo de ver su hermano. Me dirijo a su casa ahora. … Si.  … Yeah, I’ll see you in a sec.”  
Unlocking the door from a distance, the brunette hopped into her truck. The drive was no longer than five minutes, easy walking distance, but the bright blue paint on her vehicle served a different purpose. The address he’d given her belong to a small, somewhat run down house by the woods. She climbed the rickety porch stairs and paused. Should she knock? It wasn’t like it was a friendly visit, but he’d probably be more receptive… She didn’t have time to decide, as the door was suddenly pulled open. “C’mon liddol D, you gonna stand out here all da-” He paused, looking her over. “Well hello, Darlin’, what can I do for ya?”  
She smiled, pulling out her phone. “Merle Dixon?”  
“The one and only.” He replied, leaning against the door frame. “Yer too pretty to be a cop, and I think I’d remember sleepin’ with someone as fine as ya. So what are ya doin’ on my doorstep?”  
“You could say I’m…” She smiled again. “Public relations. I’m sure ya know you owe money to certain people. I’m here to collect.”  
His smirk dropped instantly. “Fuckin’ perfect. You brothel or drugs?”  
Another smile. “Little bit of both. But you actually only owe us for drugs. I’m sure ya don’t need your grocery list read out to ya. Total’s 300 bucks, including late fee.”  
"3 hundr- Ya'll gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me."  
“Nope. Let’s see here…” She swiped up on the screen, reading right from it. “We have 20 bucks as a late fee; 4 grams of cocaine- $120, one gram meth- 80, 2 tabs of ecstasy- 70. Then we’ve got a ten-buck direct delivery.”  
The man scoffed. “That’s bullshit right there. Ain’t no way I’m payin’ that.”  
She stuck her foot in the door as he tried to close it. “Yeah, you’re gonna have to. Ain’t no freebies ‘round here, ‘specially when it comes to deals. You bought it, you pay for it. Don’t cry to me if ya can’t support your hobby.”  
“Listen here, girl,” he growled. “I ain’t never hit a woman before, and I ain’t gonna start now. But ya best get the hell off my porch b’fore I do something we’d both regret.”  
The brunette sighed, stashing her phone away. “You couldn’t just pay, could ya?”  
She put her fingers to her lips and whistled. Four latinos popped up out of nowhere, sliding up beside her. Never go collect without backup. Merle sneered at them through the now-open door. “Well lookie here! If it ain’t a taco-bender gangbang. Why dontcha hop on back over the border and leave us good folks the hell alone, huh?”  
“These dumb-ass rednecks don’t even check who they’re buyin’ from anymore, do they?” She chuckled, somewhat amused despite his insults. “Just assume everythin’s from the good old pure white aryans. Latinos run the trade, pendejo.”  
He looked her over again, licking his lips. “Ya know, if you ever wanna know how a real man handles his lady… I’d be more than happy to fuck that liddol ass o’ yours red as an apple.” She sighed, though both her jaw and fist tightened. Wasn’t like she wasn’t used to it, but still… Got on her nerves every time. He rose an eyebrow, looking at her companions. “Don’t seem too thrilled, huh? Guess you like your men smellin’ like beans and-”  
A swift punch to the nose cut him off. The brunette calmly wiped her fist on her leg, ignoring the pained groan from her victim. “Alright, I think I’m done here.”  
She had already turned to leave when he spoke again. “You’ll be back. They always come back!”  
She huffed, glaring back at him over her shoulder. “Vete a la verga culero.”  
Her companions chuckled, knowing full well how devastating her wrath could be. The shouting had started by the time she got to her truck. She shook her head and drove out with another huff. She greatly prefered the tweaked-out meth-heads, they were too busy flippin’ shit to argue.

She made it home in just under half an hour, pulling into the parking lot behind their old apartment building. Entering through the back door, the brunette shouted. “Oye, Michael! I’m back!”  
A head popped out into the hall. “He’s not here. I think Carlito’s up in his apartment though.”  
“You know where he went?” She asked. Her accent had thickened, holding the peculiar cadence of Spanish. He just shook his head. “Just out. Ask Carlos, he might know.”  
She sighed, nodding back at him. “Thanks anyway, Lucas. The rest of the guys should be coming back in a bit, hopefully with some cash.”  
“Got it.”  
She climbed up the narrow stairs to the third floor, knocking on the first door. “Carlos? You here?”  
There was a muffled reply from the other side of the door. She pushed the door open, looking at the young Latino behind the desk. “I’m back. Found the guy, but he didn’t want to pay. They’re takin’ care of ‘im. You know where Michael went?”  
He nodded, flashing her a quick smile. “Yeah, he went down to check on the girls. There’s been talk of some of ‘em not bein’ right. He should be back in a bit, ‘less there’s been a problem. How was the drive?”  
She shrugged. “Alright. Nothin’ but country over there, though. I’m gonna go ahead and change."  
He nodded again, waving her away. She disappeared a little ways down the hall, door slamming shut behind her.

The mechanic slammed his truck’s door shut, stomping up the stairs. His couch was empty, much to his dismay. “Merle!”  
He didn’t care where his brother was, not really. True, he followed Merle around, doing whatever he said, but they’d both always done their own thing after work. Mainly, his brother got drunk, high, or laid (or a combination of all three) while he sat home alone with a beer. It’d become somewhat routine for Merle to shack up with him when he had no other plans. The man stuck his head out the bathroom door, holding a pack of ice to his eye. “Hey liddol D. How was work?” The question would’ve been sweet, if not for the tone and deep chuckle that followed it. He scowled at him, not in the mood for his usual shit. The truck he’d been trying to fix all morning had just up and died on him, and he’d been forced to call up the owner with the added expense report. “Ya’d know if ya actually showed up.” He frowned when his brother lowered the ice, showing an ugly black eye and busted lip. “The hell happened to ya? Slept with a married chick again?”  
The older man chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah. Just forgot to pay some bills is all.”  
“Swear, one of these days I’m just gonna find ya dead.” He muttered.  
“C’mon liddol brother, what’d I always tell ya? Ain’t nobody that can kill a Dixon ‘cept a Dixon.”  
He rolled his eyes, taking off his overshirt. “Don’t tempt me.”  
Merle laughed and disappeared back into the room. “Ya know ya love me, liddol D. Ain’t no way ya could live without me.”

* * *

She was back in town the next week, thankfully in more comfortable attire. Carlos had decided it was time for them to branch out, connecting dealers from out of town to their own web. Preferably without giving off that “repo man” vibe. So there she was, leaning against the local diner’s back wall, patiently waiting for the guys to show. A lit cigarette dangled from her lips, but she wasn’t smoking it.  
He spotted her from afar. Loose hair falling in waves, open flannel and jeans, one combat boot propped up on a cement block. She seemed to be staring off into space. God, she was fine. Definitely hadn’t seen her around town. He dug a carton out of his pocket, pulling a thin cigarette out. “Got a light? Left my damn lighter home.” That was a lie. The small plastic rectangle rested snugly in his pocket. He’d just wanted an excuse to talk to her. He wasn’t fooling himself, he knew damn well a girl like that was way out of his league. He’d begun regretting opening his mouth the second the words had left it. Who the hell was he kidding? She was probably here to see a boyfriend, or take pictures for some fancy-ass college course. Not talk to grimy redneck mechanics. But before he could turn and walk away, the brunette snapped out of her daze. “Hm? Oh, yeah. Here.”  
She tossed him her zippo, turning to face him. It took her a second to realize she knew him. Merle’s brother, the mechanic. The sun made his hair look lighter, more of a russet color than the dark brown it’d been. Not a bad look, in her opinion. He lit his cigarette, the flame’s glow reflected in his eyes, before handing the lighter back to her. “Thanks.”  
She smiled, taking a drag of her own. “No problem. Smokers gotta stick together, ya know?”  
He nodded, watching her blow the smoke up into the sky. She sounded familiar somehow, but he couldn’t put his finger on why. Then those bright green eyes turned back towards him, and he mentally cursed. Right, her. The girl who’d come down to the shop not three days ago, the one looking for his brother. He still didn’t get what a girl like that would want with Merle’s dirty ass. She grinned, having seen his eyes briefly widen. “Took ya long enough.”  
He shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “Erm, yeah. Didja ever find ‘im?”  
“Yep,” she replied, “got everythin’ taken care of. Thanks.”  
He shook his head, taking a drag. “‘s nothin’. Merle don’t always pay attention to who he sleeps with, someone’s always lookin’ for ‘im. Better you than a pissed-off husband.”  
He mentally kicked himself, staring a hole into the ground at his feet. ‘Way to go, dumbass, just go right ahead and remind her he don’t care ‘bout her. I’m sure she’ll love that.’ His eyes jerked up when he heard her snort. She was holding her cigarette in one hand, covering her mouth with the other. Her eyes shone with blatant amusement, and he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. Wasn’t she supposed to be mad? She cleared her throat, unable to keep the grin off her face. “You thought… Me and ‘im?”  
That only served to confuse him further. “Why else would ya be lookin’ for ‘im?”  
“Nah,” she chuckled, shaking her head. “Wasn’t like that, and never will be. Ain’t really my type.”  
He felt his heart sink a little. ‘What’d I expect? Nice girls don’t go for rednecks.’ Wasn’t like he’d been fooling himself. But hearing her actually say it crushed whatever hope had been budding in his chest. Still, he couldn’t help but admire a girl who’d have the balls to go bother his brother for anything but a night in. Or drugs. “Not your type, huh?”

She shook her head again. “Not my type. I may like my men a bit dirty, but they’d better be clean. Drugs ain’t my thing, and neither are rashes.” She got enough of that back home. The brunette flashed him a crooked grin. “No offense to you, but I feel like he kinda fails in both categories.” She groaned internally. ‘Not to mention the racism. God, bastards think they own the world, don’t they?’ She watched for his reaction, and was pleasantly surprised. He grinned and shook his head, all the while chuckling. “Damn. You’ve got balls, I’ll give ya that. Most people wouldn’t dare talk shit ‘bout a Dixon. ‘specially to his brother.”  
She thought he had a nice grin. “Guess I’m not most people, huh?”  
“Guess not.”  
She saw two people walk into her line of sight, and got off the wall with a sigh. As strange as it was, she didn’t really want to leave. “Hey, I gotta go. I’ll be in town for a couple’a days, might run into ya again. We should get coffee or something. It was nice meetin’ ya.”  
He nodded, flicking away his ash. “Ya too.”  
She held out a hand towards him. “I’m Deliah, by the way.”  
It took him by surprise. He hadn’t expected her to talk to him, much less say it was ‘nice meetin’ ya’ and introduce herself. Or ask him out for coffee... ‘Prob’ly just bein’ polite.’ He thought. Didn’t mean anything. He nodded, shaking her hand. “Daryl.”  
She grinned and began walking away, waving over her shoulder. “See ya around, Daryl.”  
“Yeah.”  
He stared at the corner where she disappeared for a while before crushing his cigarette butt and heading back to work.

They saw each other a few more times that week, usually from afar. She was on the phone a lot, pacing and speaking in a fast but quiet voice. He didn't dare interrupt her. Not like they were friends, really.  
As for her, she saw him both in and out of the garage, his head buried inside a car or nursing a cigarette. She always rose a hand in greeting, but work came first.

* * *

They'd finalized the deal and its assorted details by the end of the week. She'd called Carlos, established a connection with the new guys, and shook hands. She was walking back to her motel room when she spotted a familiar figure leaning against the garage. The brunette walked up to him, grinning crookedly. "Got a light?"  
He held the plastic rectangle out to her without a word. He almost felt embarrassed. She had a beautiful metal zippo, and here he was handing her a shitty-ass lighter swiped from a gas station. But she took it with a grateful smile, quickly lighting her cigarette and handing it back to him. "How've you been?"  
He shrugged. "A'right. You?"  
"Same," she replied, taking a drag. "I just finished what I was here for, so I'll be goin' home in a bit. Thought I'd come smoke with you before leavin'."  
He glanced down at his watch. "Kinda late, ain't it? Drivin' far?"  
She shook her head, grinning. "Worried about me, are ya? I'll be fine, I live 'bout half an hour from here.”  
Daryl felt his ears flush. He'd already fucked up, might as well finish. "Just ain't the safest place for young women, ya know. Don't you have a boyfriend to come with or somethin'?"  
Her grin widened, followed by a chuckle. "Nah. Got a fuck-ton of brothers, but none of 'em want to haul their asses all the way down here. Guess you're just gonna have to watch over me."  
His grip on the cigarette nearly faltered. He grit his teeth, taking another drag as not to look at her. "Don't fuck with me. Ain't no one who wants me watchin' out for 'em."  
"Seriously?" She was taken aback, eyebrows rising up to her hairline. "Why not? Ya seem alright to me."  
He glared her way, but it clearly lacked any anger towards her. "Come on. Broke-ass redneck workin' a dead-end job he only got 'cause of his druggy brother? Ya shouldn't even be talkin' to me."  
Deliah glared back at him. "You're bein' too hard on yourself. I think you're alright. Besides," she took a drag before continuing. "I'm not as good a gal a you think. Just playin' the part."  
He said nothing, just stared at the ground at his feet. She sighed, sticking her cigarette between her teeth so she could scribble on the back of her motel's info card. “Here. This is my number..." She held it out to him. "Call me if you ever need anything. Or if you just want to talk. I've gotta get going, but I'd love to see you again. And yes, I am serious. Get over yourself and give me a call, hm?"  
He watched her walk away without a word, the thin white card clutched between his fingers. The rest of the day went by in a sort of haze, the card safely tucked in his wallet. Merle, of course, teased the hell out of him, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

* * *

Deliah took a careful step forward, drawing her bow back. Her prey was eating peacefully, completely oblivious to her presence. She almost felt bad for what she was about to do. She lined up the small green pin to her target, and fired. Another arrow pierced the creature’s neck as hers did, and it fell. She cursed softly, silently approaching it. “What in the hell…”  
Leaves rustled to her right and she turned, drawing her bow.  
“Aw, shit.”  
Her eyebrows rose, arm lowering. “Daryl?”  
“Yeah.” He stepped out of a bush, lowering his crossbow. “Why the hell ain’t you wearing orange?”  
She looked him over, scowling. “Why aren’t you?”  
“Ain’t got one.”  
“Neither do I.”  
“Buy one.”  
“No one’s selling. What’s your excuse?”  
“Ain’t ever had the money.”  
She sighed, smoothing back hair that had fallen out of her ponytail. “Whatever. What are we doing about that thing? Both killed it.”  
He shifted on his feet, chewing on the corner of his thumb. “Huntin’ for food. But I ain’t gonna put up a fight.”  
There was a pause. She huffed, rolling her eyes. “Fine. Take the damn deer. We use the meat and sell the bones, but we’ll be fine without.”

He nodded without a word, walking over to the body to remove his arrow. She followed, looking him over again. With a sleeveless flannel and dirty jeans, he looked very different from the mechanic she'd first met. Not that it was a bad thing, she rather liked the new look... She'd always had a soft spot for the rough and tough hunters. He propped one heavy boot against the deer's neck, pulling his bolt out. He hesitated for a second before pulling her arrow out too. She took it with a thankful nod, and put it in her quiver. He wiped his off with the rag in his back pocket before straightening. "You gonna be here long?"  
She checked her watch and sighed. "Actually, I gotta get back. How far to your town? It’s about... 45 minutes to mine if I haul ass.”  
He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a while before answering. “15-20 minutes? I dunno, not like I kept track.” He looked down at their kill before glancing up at her, somewhat hesitant. “Help me haul that thing back and I can give ya a ride. If ya want. Ain’t no taxis ‘round here.”  
“Yeah, okay.” She replied. “I gotta go get groceries and then get to work, so it’d really help.”

She figured she could just have him drop her off at the corner store. Far enough to keep him in the dark, but close enough that she could get back to the guys on time. They had a big shipment coming in, and someone needed to distract the cops.  
He nodded mutely, reaching down to grab the deer’s back legs. She walked to his side and grabbed the front ones, the two of them hauling it up on their shoulders. They walked in tandem back to the tree line, their silence just bordering awkward. His truck was parked in the dirt a few feet away, just on the side of the road. They dropped the buck in the back, fastening it before going around to the front cabin. He was making an effort not to think about how old and dirty his truck was. She, however, did not care in the least. While a bit muddy, the car wasn't rusting or dented, which was more than she could say about her brothers'. He cleared his throat awkwardly, turning the key in the ignition. “So, uh, where to?"  
"Shouldn't ya drop the deer off first?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. “Half an hour of driving ain't gonna do it any good."

He mentally cursed, biting the inside of his cheek. He'd hoped she wouldn't notice or question it. Yeah, she'd already been to his house, but it had been under the belief it was Merle’s. He didn't want to have her face the reality of his sad, pathetic life quite yet. "Nah, it'll be fine. Lets it dry a bit so the skin don't tear as much."  
"But-" She was cut off by a buzzing from her back pocket. She held up a finger with a sigh, pressing the phone to her ear. "Just got out. I'll be back in like half an hour, alright?"  
"Don't bother, they just called to cancel."  
She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. They'd just added new guys to their network, and might not be able to deliver anything to them. "Seriously? That's bad for business."  
"Yeah, well their driver got sick, so they're trying to figure out when they can deliver. Might be next week, might be next month."  
She sighed again, running a hand through her hair. "I'm sure ya know how bad that'd be. Not only financially, but do ya know how hard it's gonna be for me to keep connections going? God. I'm kickin' someone's ass next time they show up."  
There was a deep chuckle on the other end. "I don't doubt it, hermanita. Grab some lunch, we'll come get you in a couple hours."  
“I told you not to call me that.” She said, huffing. “...I’ll see you later. Stay safe.” She hung up, putting the phone away before turning to her companion. "Work just got canceled. One of the guys is gonna pick me up in a couple hours." She paused and glanced at her watch. "Ya wanna get lunch? I mean, unless you have somethin' to do. I'd totally understand."  
He shook his head, perhaps a bit too fast. "Nah, I'm free."

She smiled, and every thought he'd ever had went out the window. She was happy. Because of him. He had the been the one to put that soft, almost bashful expression on her face. All because he'd agreed to lunch. She undid her ponytail, running her fingers through the now-loose hair. The elastic band had left a crimp, but he didn't mention it. "Ya can just drop me off near the diner. That way I can order while you take care of that deer. Sounds good?"  
He nodded, thankful. Maybe she'd noticed his reluctance. Maybe he was just lucky. She started braiding her hair, settling in the seat. "Lead the way."  
He pulled the truck back out onto the road, raising an eyebrow her way. "Ain't wearin' your seatbelt?"  
She shook her head and shrugged. "Nah. Never got the hang of it. Always made me uncomfortable."

He shrugged in return, turning back to the road. It might’ve been his truck, but that was none of his business. Daryl stopped the car by the diner’s curb, chewing on the edge of his thumb. "I'll be back in like fifteen minutes."  
Deliah nodded, hopping out. She didn’t let go of her bow. Good thing most places around here were weapon-friendly... "Want me to order anythin' for you?"  
"Bacon cheeseburger." He replied. She nodded again, slamming the door shut. "Got it. See you in a bit."

She smiled, patted the truck twice, and walked in the diner. A waitresses came up to her almost immediately. She had curly blond hair and nervous hands. "Hi. I don't want to be rude or anythin' I mean it's not like I'm gossipin' I'm really just curious-"  
Deliah just rose an eyebrow, and the woman cut off. She smiled sheepishly, glancing out the window. "Did you just... walk out of Dixon's truck?"  
"Yes..." She replied, her eyebrow rising further up. "Why?"  
The other woman smiled again. "It's just... We've never seen him have a girlfriend. Kind of a nice guy, bit grumpy, but his brother tends to scare people away."  
She chuckled. "Oh I know. But I'm not- I mean, we were just out hunting and ran into each other...." She trailed off, staring blankly at where his truck had been. She liked him, yeah, but as a date? Not like she’d ever really had a boyfriend. Lovers, yes. Sort of. But not a date. She wouldn’t really mind, though. He was nice, if a bit quiet. Clean. Not an ideal family, but then again, who was she to judge? The waitress cleared her throat, snapping her out of her thoughts.  
“Do you want a specific table?” She asked with a smile.  
“What? Um, no. Anywhere’s fine.” The brunette replied. She lead her to a small table near the back, handing her a menu. “Do you need time to look this over?”  
She shook her head and set her bow down next to her leg. “No, I'm good. Two bacon cheeseburgers, and beers. Whatever he likes, if you know it. Don't really care."

She smiled rather knowingly, and left with a nod. Deliah sighed, propping her chin up on her hand. Her life was complicated enough without having to worry about dating. She saw Daryl’s truck drive by, heading for the parking lot out back. He was a decent guy, nice enough. Maybe she should give him a chance. He lived far enough to be kept out of her dirty little secrets… The bell to the back entrance chimed, and the man himself walked in. He looked around, frowning, one hand gripping his car keys. His shoulders were drawn tighter than the string of his crossbow. Was he really so nervous? Well, if their waitress was right, he was hardly experienced. She rose a hand, catching his attention. He immediately relaxed, heading her way. The brunette smiled in return. Seems like he'd been worried she'd just leave. Yeah, maybe she would give him a chance after all. He slid into his seat, glancing over at the waitress. "Did'ja order yet?"  
She nodded with a hum. "Yup. Should be out in a sec."  
He nodded back, silent for a few seconds, before clearing his throat. "So, uh, what do ya do, exactly?"  
Deliah smiled to herself as she replied. "I'm in... public relations, I guess. Owner-buyer relationships."  
"Sounds fun..?" He said, raising an eyebrow. "What'd ya want with my brother?"  
She grinned sheepishly. Cat was out of the bag now. "I work with pharmaceutical companies, amongst other things. I'm sure you know about your brother's habits."

His face soured. Of course. "Don't remind me. Asshole's gonna get himself killed puttin' that shit in his body."  
"So I'm guessing you're clean, huh?" She asked. He nodded, and she couldn't help but pull a small smile. He stilled, remember an earlier conversation.

_"Ain't really my type... I may like my men a bit dirty, but they'd better be clean. Drugs ain't my thing..."_

He glanced up at her, only to see that small smile and look away again. This was all too weird for him. The waitress thankfully walked up to them just a few seconds later, setting their plates down. "I'll be right back with those beers." They both nodded, picking up their burgers. The next few moments were blissfully silent, but it’d get awkward before too long. Better say something before it got to that point. He swallowed a bite, wiping sauce off his lips. "Ya said ya have brothers?"  
She nodded, grinning. "Oh yeah. About a dozen of 'em."  
He nearly choked. "A dozen?! Well damn, no wonder you're all the way out here. Prob’ly never get a brake."  
"I don't." She laughed. "No sisters either, just me and the boys."  
"Ya'll related?" He asked. The brunette shook her head in response. "All adopted. I mean, a couple of 'em are, but not to me."  
He rose an eyebrow. "Damn. And ya remember all their names? How old are they, anyway?"  
She laughed, setting the burger down to count on her fingers. "Well just the ones I live with. There's a few more scattered around town. We're between... 32 and 9, I think. I'll be 24 in March. There's Michael, Carlos, Lucas, Esteban, Julio, Alex, Carlito, Ben, and the youngest one is Ricardo, but we just call him Ricky."  
He just stared at her for a few seconds. "Ya'll crazy."  
She shrugged, chuckling. "Maybe. But we're a family and take care of each other. It's nice, a lot nicer than what I had before."  
He saw the opening to ask about what that "before" was, but the waitress came back before he could. "I'm sorry about the wait, we had some problems with the taps. Enjoy, and feel free to call me over if you need anything."  
Deliah smiled politely, picking up the glass. "That's alright, thank you."

They finished their lunch in amiable conversation, each subtly observing the other. Then came the bill. Daryl reached for the receipt, pulling out his wallet, only to have Deliah immediately snatch it back. "I got this."  
"No ya don't."  
"Yes I do."  
"Ain't polite."  
"I asked you."  
"And I agreed. Let me pay."  
"No."  
"Yes."  
"Why not?"  
The man across from her huffed, crossing his arms. "Ain't polite for a man to let a woman pay on a first date. Merle taught me well enough."  
She smirked, mirroring his position. "Oh? Is this a date then?"

He stilled, feeling the back of his neck flush. He hasn't meant to say that, but she didn't seem to mind. Looked more amused than anything, actually, but her tone held a note of seriousness. He shrugged nonchalantly, even as his heartbeat sped up. This couldn't really be happening. "Do ya want it to be?"  
She smiled and leaned back in her seat. "Maybe. But you're gonna have to let me pay."  
The mechanic glared at her, shoulders tensed. Was she really fighting him on this? He’d always been told women liked this sort of thing. Chivalry and whatnot. "No way in hell, I ain't lettin' you pay for the whole thing."  
The corner of her mouth twitched up. "Half?"  
He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fine. But ya might just be the most stubborn woman I've ever met."  
Deliah laughed, pulling her wallet open. "Should've thought of that before agreein' to a date."  
He threw a hand up, ignoring the way his heart skipped a beat. "Well I didn't fuckin' know ya were this irritatin'!"  
"You'll learn to love it." She replied with a shrug. He groaned again, only to be interrupted by the buzzing of her cellphone. She put it up to her ear, looking out the window. "Yeah?"  
_"We're in the motel parking. Where should we come get you?"_  
She glanced at her companion before replying. "Diner. I'll be right out."  
_"Alright. See you in a sec."_  
She hung up, getting out of her seat. "My brothers are here. Probably _Esteban_ and _Julio_ , if ya wanted to know." The brunette flashed him an amused look at that. She could already see the truck out front. "This was nice. You got my number, call me up sometime. I'll see you later."  
She set some cash down on the table and walked out, her bow tucked up against her, waving at him through the window with her free hand. He raised his hand, watching her get in a beat up gray truck. He wasn't quite sure what had just happened exactly, but he was surprisingly okay with it. The motel card was still safely tucked away behind his ID. Maybe he'd call her. Probably not. Never had been good with women, and she wasn't any different. Well, no. She was, and so very different from the girls he met at the bar that it only made it harder. The truck disappeared around a corner, and he stood.

Merle was sprawled out on the couch when he got back home, a few empty bottles at his feet. “Hey liddol D. Saw that buck ya brought home. The fuck you been?”  
“Out.”  
The older man straightened. “Out? Jus’ out? I know this damn town like the back o’ my hand and there ain’t no place for ya to be just “out”. C'mon, spill it.”  
Daryl groaned quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Got lunch. Ain’t a big deal, ‘s not like ya own me.”  
“Oooh, liddo D got lunch, did he?” his brother drawled, a mocking grin on his lips. “About damn time you got some tail.”  
The hunter’s voice was low when he replied, more to himself than anything. That wasn’t any of his business anyway. He didn’t have to justify himself to anyone, especially not his junkie brother. “Just lunch. She ain’t like that.”  
Merle had apparently decided to actually make use of his ears that day, and leaned forward to stare at him. “She ain’t like that. Never pegged ya for a softie, liddol brother. Wha’s the matter with ya? Didja up just and forget how to convince ‘em? A few drinks and the legs just...” He grinned, motioning with his hands. “Open. Thought I taught ya better.”  
Daryl glared at him, fists clenched at his sides. “Told you, she ain’t like that. Fuck off, alright? Ain’t none of your damn business.”  
The older man watched him storm away, sagging back against the couch with a grunt. “Don’t go fallin’ for her, liddol D. Dixons only ever do it once.” He drained the last of his beer and chucked it across the room. “And it don' ever gonna go away.”


End file.
